Making Predictions
by I Dream of Scotty
Summary: A little Jisbon one-shot. Post Red John. Jane helps Lisbon see the woman she really is.


A/N: This is my first Mentalist fan fic (if you don't count my crossover fic Red Ghosts). It was something that just came to me out of random thoughts.

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist**

Making Predictions

Patrick Jane paced around the darkened room, anger and worry pulsing through his mind like an unwanted heartbeat. He wished that he could just take off somewhere, go for a walk to clear his head but he knew he couldn't. That would mean leaving her, alone. His eyes fell upon the sleeping woman on the couch in front of him. She looked so peaceful, almost ethereal as the moonlight streaming from the window covered her like a soft, ghostly, gossamer blanket. He watched her breathe and felt his own breathing synchronize with hers. She was beautiful. So peaceful and relaxed. He found it hard to believe that almost an hour ago she had been in tears, wanting to spend the evening drowning her demons inside the nearest bottle. His eyes wandered over her sleeping form and he felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him. Unable to resist, he quietly knelt down next to her face and gently caressed her cheek. He felt her smiling lips softly brush his fingers and suddenly he could feel the anger build within him again as memories of the day came flooding back to him, engulfing his mind like a thick fog. How could anyone hurt her the way she was hurt today? He needed to punch something, he wanted to go and tell that woman exactly what he thought of her. But he couldn't leave her. He wouldn't leave, not again. Not ever again.

Teresa Lisbon felt something soft brush against her cheek as she began to awake from her three hour slumber. She hadn't slept properly in days, the case they had caught had taken its told on her in more ways than one. She had been feeling slightly unwell and her shoulders hurt from falling asleep at her desk six days in a row. As consciousness slowly returned she began to remember the events of the past day. The case they were investigating, Joyce Kent. She claimed she was a real psychic and that she had foretold the death of her grandson. Lisbon was shocked to find out that the events she described that led to his death were completely accurate. She had suspected her of killing him for a while, until they found out that it was his own uncle who did it. So intrigued was she by the accuracy of Mrs Kent's predictions that she had to go back and ask her how she really knew. What she got, however, was something else entirely. _You're such a lovely young woman. _She had told Lisbon, _but so alone. So lonely. My poor girl, I see...many empty hours in your life, not filled by children's laughter, or the loving embrace of a man who loves you. Just… emptiness. That job of yours...it will keep you isolated from everyone...a lonely death…._

It was at that point that Lisbon had let go of the psychic's hand and had almost fled from the house. She had pretended that it didn't bother her but she was secretly hurt by her predictions. Although her job was very important to her, she had always hoped to have a family one day, and maybe even grandchildren. _There's no such thing as psychics!_ She kept telling herself that but a part of her didn't believe that was true, the part that had seen her predict her grandson's death so precisely. So she had cried. And Jane had seen her cry.

She felt that soft touch against her cheek once more as she began to wake up more fully. She could smell the familiar scent of her consultant and she found herself for the first time that day overcome with happiness and a smile graced her features. He was there with her, watching over her as she slept. He was worried. She opened her eyes and was greeted by his warm smile. But as she moved to sit up she could see a tinge of anger in his eyes. "Hey." She said.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Jane asked her as he brushed an errant lock of hair away from her face.

"Better." She told him as she sat upright, leaning against the cushions. "Think the sleep did me some good."

Jane smiled warmly again as he took her hand. "I'm glad, you needed the rest."

"You stayed." The words came out as a choked whisper.

He nodded. "I'm never going to leave you again Teresa."

Lisbon could feel the tears threatening to fall again at the tender way he said her name. They had gotten closer after the death of Red John and he had started using her name more and more but each time he did so it always touched her heart. No one said her name the way he did, it was like a special gift from him that always made her smile. "And about what that woman said today…"

"Jane," she began, "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Teresa." He now held both her hands in his and squeezed tightly. "She's wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. Your job only brings out the best in you. My Saint Teresa. You attract everyone in by your kind heart and selfless nature. There's no way you could ever be alone." His voice was soft and he was so close to her that she could feel his breath ghost across her face as he spoke. He took her in his arms and held her close to him, tenderly stroking her head as he said, "and as for that other thing she said.." he could feel her squeezing him back, her head resting on his shoulder. "this is where I belong. With you."

He felt her pull back. He looked into her eyes and smiled, "so you see, she's got it wrong, because you are not alone, she was just trying to paint a picture using only the few scraps of what she saw. She doesn't know you. And, as I've told you a hundred times before, my dear, there's no such things as psychics." Lisbon smiled as she felt hot tears fall from her eyes. They were happy tears and it warmed Jane's heart. He held her close once more, silently making his own prediction. _I predict that you, my love, will have my heart forever._


End file.
